


golden fruit

by occasionallynotsafe



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Other, Underage Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:42:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25402543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/occasionallynotsafe/pseuds/occasionallynotsafe
Summary: a fruit, taken.
Relationships: Human/Monster - Relationship, human/fae
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	golden fruit

**Author's Note:**

> i, in no way, support real life rape. this is fictional, and therefore not real, and does not reflect upon my own morals.

he’s young, and therefore an easy target.

gold-summer hair, freckled skin, baby blue eyes. there’s a crinkle to his smile, a tooth missing from his grin. he’s _precious_ , tantalizing so, and they’ve never cared for mortal rules, never cared for the forbiddingness of youth.

if anything, it makes the fruit taste _so_ sweeter. 

they corner him on his way home; the sun is warm, and his hair is sunlight given shape, his eyes skies untouched. he greets them kindly, curiously, because he is a fruit untouched, and so he is kind.

it is easy to lure him into the woods.

they get him pressed up against a tree, get their fingers around the smallness of his body, and he panics so sweetly, so slowly.

“you’re- you’re not supposed to do that,” he says, as they push him into the bark and taste the sweat on his neck. “please?”

“shh,” they hush, and sway into the small of his body, the little hole not meant to anyone yet. they’re hard, and they’re wanting. 

he looks up at them with blue-wet eyes, and says he doesn’t understand.

“it’s okay,” they hush, and push his pants down; he whines, confused, scared, and they kiss the crown of his head, shushes him kindly. “it’s fun, you’ll see, you’ll understand. let me show you, please?”

he shakes his head. not exactly in denial, but in confusion, in stark dislike. they touch their smallness again, stroke it easily, and his breath hitches, traitor-like.

“i don’t- i don’t like it,” he says, but it hovers on the edge of being a question, and they presses their fingerpads along the slit at his head, and he shivers.

“you will,” they say, and slides their hand up, down. he’s old enough to leak, and they smear it along their palm, gets it on his shaft. “trust me?”

he makes a breathy, little sound.

“i don’t even know you,” he says, and his hips bucks forward, his dick leaks harder.

“you will,” they promise.

they make him come first, before taking it a step further. makes his little body sing, makes his voice curl and his chest rise, and he’s a beautiful bird, a delicious little snack.

he comes on the bark, and cries, sweetly, and they kiss his crown and tell him how _good_ he is being, and wasn’t that sweet? wasn’t that good? and then they press their fingers into his hole, and finger fucks him open.

he cries. doesn’t scream, too wasted and confused to do so, and so it is not hard, to open him enough to slip inside of him. to get their own dick in, to feel that _heat_ and the _warmth_ of something untouched, and they groan into his hair, slides their hand down to his limp dick and touch it again.

he shakes his head against their chest. begs them not to. but oh, they’re so _soft_ and so _sweet_ , and how can they not?

they touch him till he’s hard again, angry-red, and then they fuck him properly. thrusts into his sweet little hole, and hits that spot deep within him that makes him scream with delight, and then hits it again and again until there’s no more come in his dick.

“isn’t this good?” they gasp into his ears, bouncing him on their dick. “isn’t this sweet?”

the child cries. he’s lost in a haze of pleasure, and they know he would agree if he had his head about him.

they come into him, fills him up, and then they sit there, cradling him to their chest, gently hushing him and wiping their tears away.

“you were so good,” they say, and he clings to him, face flushed and body sweaty.

“you’re mine now,” they tell him, a bit later, when he’s half-asleep against their chest. “do you understand, little thing? you’re _mine_.”

he does not answer. but he shivers, shudders, and they lay a kiss against their crown, slides a palm down their little dick, and looks forward to next time.


End file.
